Dragon Foretold

Introduction

The dragons are back, and there’s going to be some trouble.

Many years ago, Sue-Ellen fell in love with the golden-haired boy held prisoner by her uncle. She did everything she could to keep him safe, even forsaking her family.

But would Samael do the same? When he finally escapes his prison life, she thinks they’ll finally have their happily-ever-after.

Wrong. So wrong.

A mating between them has been forbidden because she is a mere shifter, while he is the Gold dragon the world has been waiting for. The one foretold.

What the world doesn’t know is that Samael plans to conquer humanity—unless someone stops him, and she might have just found the only weapon

that

can

.

Chapter

One

Many years ago, when all was right in the world and shifters hid under cloaks of humanity, there was a young, impressionable girl named Sue-Ellen Mercer .

It’s so grand.

Uncle’s house awed simple Sue-Ellen. Just look at it with its huge windows. She’d wager they were the quality kind that didn’t fog at temperature changes and could open with a slight push that didn’t require a stick to keep it propped.

What of the front entrance? Comprised of two doors, the wood carved and smooth, tall enough for giants! Surely only the rich and fabulous ever stepped

through

them

.

The lawn looked softer than any rug Sue-Ellen ever recalled gracing their house. Huge and manicured, the grass was just like a living, plush, green carpet.

All in all, everything appeared absolutely stunning. She’d never seen such a beautiful home. Never imagined this kind of wealth. And if her family had their way, she’d have never

experienced

it

.

Why do they shun this rich extension of our family?

Against her mother’s wishes, Sue-Ellen had come for a visit with her uncle Theo and her aunt Hattie—who looked nothing like her tired and worn sister. How could Sue-Ellen say no when the car with the lovely new interior arrived? It had all the bells and whistles, including climate control and air-conditioned seats. Who cooled their butt in

a

car

?

Rich

folks

did

.

The new sedan with its gleaming black paint and soft leather seats—buttery soft and oh so decadent—sure beat the rusty old pickup the Mercer family used to get around.

Uncle Theo himself seemed the height of suave sophistication, dressed in a business suit with a tie. The only time any of her brothers wore a tie was when someone died. And then, after a few toasts with alcohol—fermented for at least a few full moons—they would wrap them around their heads bandana style and wrestle because, according to her ma, that was what men did instead of dealing with their feelings.

Uncle Theo wasn’t like that. Uncle Theo was always properly dressed. Always the height of elegance, with the most impressive manners she’d ever heard. It made a young girl wonder what kind of lifestyle her mysterious

uncle

led

.

Despite him being married to her sister, Sue-Ellen’s mother didn’t like or respect the man. Even when Hattie asked—and so nicely too with that soft southern accent—Sue-Ellen’s ma had vehemently argued against Hattie and Theo taking any of the kids for a visit.

Sue-Ellen’s mother appeared determined to keep all of her children in the shack they called home. Much too full of pride—which didn’t pay the bills—Ma didn’t want them accepting gifts or a helping hand. "We don’t need no charity. We do fine on

our

own

."

Did they? Was doing fine wearing hand-me-downs that were already hand-me-downs? Eating expired food because it was bought at a fraction of the cost? And her mother could have totally been on that coupon show, given she hoarded the best ones and then used them to devastating effect. Grocery stores cringed when they saw her coming armed with children, grocery carts, and her binder.

Sue-Ellen wasn’t completely ignorant. She knew why her mother did it. Not having a man around and too many mouths to feed meant Ma had to do what she could to make

ends

meet

.

I understand that. She respected it, too, but it didn’t stop Sue-Ellen from wanting the better things in life. She wanted to know what the world looked like when not living below the poverty threshold. She didn’t see the problem with accepting her aunt’s and uncle’s offer to visit. Sure, Ma hated Uncle Theo, but he was family, and how could her ma be so cruel, given how fragile Auntie’s health was? Even more tenuous since her children had fled the nest, leaving Auntie alone.

The arguments with her mother only bolstered Sue-Ellen’s resolve so that, when her uncle left, he had an extra passenger stowed in

the

back

.

When discovered, he didn’t threaten to take her back home or tell her she’d done wrong. He’d looked at her and smiled. I’m glad you decided to join me and your aunt, niece.

So was she. Eating at a sit-down restaurant for lunch later that day with real tablecloths and a menu on actual paper, Sue-Ellen didn’t regret her choice—even if the phone call with her mother turned out quite shrill.

But she’d heard Ma screaming her entire life. It was hard to feel bad, seeing as how Auntie and Uncle had done nothing but spoil Sue-Ellen since her arrival. Showering her with clothes and gifts, her every wish catered to. Treated just like their daughter.

Here, she got all the attention and didn’t have to share with rowdy brothers. Here, she never lacked for food—and didn’t have to lick it to claim it. She wore the best clothes—new clothes and not off a discount rack. She had an aunt who smelled almost like her mother. A woman who had time to brush her hair and tell her how pretty

she

was

.

It wasn’t that her own mother didn’t care, but Ma was busy. Once their father died, she had to work twice as hard, especially given that Sue-Ellen had a few brothers always breaking stuff and getting into trouble. Some houses had swear jars with money; theirs had one with bail funds.

It wasn’t a life for a young lady. In her mind, her mother was better off with one less mouth to feed—or so she’d convinced herself.

Sue-Ellen, having tasted the good life, never wanted to return to the swamp and the crowded shack they called home. She liked having her own room with clean linens and her own bathroom. There were nice things in her drawers. And the food? Not freshly caught from the bayou every evening.

So if she loved living here so much, why did she jeopardize it all by sneaking into Uncle’s office in the middle of the night?

What am I doing?

Showing her roots, obviously. Grandpa always said they were descended from thieves. Smugglers, too, which meant stealing into her uncle’s office happened with confident ease. Stealth was in her blood.

Sue-Ellen had no problem getting to the main floor, and the door to Uncle’s office gave at a simple turn of the knob. She eased inside and slowly shut the slab of thick wood

behind

her

.

Click.

Breath held, she froze. Had anyone heard? Would someone demand to know what she was doing?

What’s my excuse?

The dark side of her didn’t think she needed one, especially if she ate any witnesses.

No need to get primal. Nothing happened.

Sue-Ellen let loose a breath and realized that she was shaking—with adrenaline, not fear. Being good all the time was hard. Sneaking around and checking out stuff had an element of danger, which in turn, energized her. It felt great, but the real reason she did all this was because her curiosity required satisfaction.

Earlier that day, Uncle obviously hadn’t known she was outside his office in the bushes, looking for the mini drone she’d managed to crash again. Just one of the many toys they’d bought to amuse their teen niece.

Peeking through the window, Sue-Ellen saw her uncle doing something mysterious. It wasn’t just cats that suffered from an inquisitive nature.

Now, here in his office, past the witching hour, she tried to recreate her uncle’s actions. It took fiddling with a few books on the shelf before she tilted the

right

one

.

Tick.

With hardly a whisper of sound, the section of the bookcase in front of her pulled into the wall then slid sideways.

Holy

shit

.

Her mother wasn’t there to screech, Potty mouth!

Then again, her ma might have said something even more inappropriate, given the moving bookcase revealed a door-sized opening with stairs going down. Talk about Scooby-Doo cool. A secret basement. What did Uncle hide down there?

Perhaps he’d built himself a place to go when the full moon begged for him to swap skins. Those with a wolf as their animal tended to be very driven by the phases of the moon. Sue-Ellen, being of the alligator variety, was drawn to raw chicken and

squishy

mud

.

She missed rolling in the muck and then sluicing off in the swamp. She’d not been able to change since her arrival.

A place to be myself would

be

nice

.

For a girl who’d grown up on the edge of the bayou and could slip into her gator skin for a swim anytime she liked, the lack of privacy to be herself was the one jarring negative note in paradise.

I miss being me. Even if her version of me would terrify most people and send them running for a shotgun. Gator skin made for nice purses. Although her grandmother always swore snake was better.

Sue-Ellen skipped down the steps, her slipper socks silent on the metal stairs. It was a narrow descent, and a strange, almost antiseptic smell permeated the air. Whatever hid below, Uncle kept it clean.

Was this Uncle’s secret lair? Or did he keep treasure down here? Everyone in the family knew Uncle Theo and Auntie Hattie were rich. The kind of rich she’d only seen on television

until

now

.

So why am I jeopardizing it? Why did she sneak around? Nothing good ever came from subterfuge. It was how her great-uncle had gotten shot. Served him right for visiting that Jezebel was the general consensus among the women in the family.

The stairs ended, and she entered into a storage room, a decently-sized space with racks of wooden shelves set in rows on either side as she stepped off the final tread. Bottles of wine sat cradled on the many levels, and she could have groaned in disappointment.

A wine cellar. Nothing more than a hidden stash of vintage bottles. What a letdown.

She turned around, ready to head back up, when she noted a line of white along the floor at the end of one aisle.

The slash of light drew her, and she ghosted down the slim path, ignoring the corked bottles—pretending she wasn’t afraid they’d suddenly pop and hit her like little wooden bullets.

Nothing exploded, and she made it to the wall, a wall showing a thin streak of light where the floor

met

it

.

It could mean only one thing.

A

hidden

room

.

Her excitement level spiked. Forget about going back to bed. She had a new mystery to solve. Just call me Daphne. With dirty-blonde hair and jeans.

Sue-Ellen felt around for a lever, something to give her access. A hook on the wall pulled down, and the door

clicked

open

.

Inside, another room, with more shelving, the metal kind this time, holding boxes, some of them still wrapped in plastic. Boring.

But do you know what wasn’t boring? The stack of boxes on a skid at the far side that moved with a simple shove and revealed a door with a keypad.

Another room. A locked one. Be still her beating heart.

The problem with curiosity? Once ignited, it wouldn’t go away; it only got stronger. Sue-Ellen couldn’t resist. What was in the room beyond

the

door

?

Despite knowing full well how stupid she was being, Sue-Ellen couldn’t fight the allure. I have

to

know

.

She pressed her ear against the door. Listened. Heard nothing. Not a damned thing.

As for her inner self? That cold predator who had a special sense for danger? It remained quiet.

Her hand wrapped around the handle and gripped it, but it didn’t even turn a little. She peered at the keypad. Interestingly enough, it looked just like the one upstairs by the front door. Would it respond to the same codes?

Quickly, she tapped in her uncle’s nine digits. She hadn’t purposely memorized them when her uncle used the system. Remembering stuff was just the kind of thing that came naturally to her—and was probably inherited from her great-grandpa, a renowned bank robber who did so love cracking safes.

The series of digits worked. The door clicked, and the handle turned. She took a deep breath before she opened it. Well greased, the hinges made not a sound. Then again, it might not have been heard, given the hum emanating from

the

room

.

Initially, Sue-Ellen blinked at what she saw. It took a moment to process because what she encountered wasn’t what she’d expected.

She’d thought maybe she’d find some kind of drug den or a secret sex place for kinky stuff. She watched television. She read. She knew what adults did in hiding.

First thing she noted, however, was a counter to the left of the door, stainless steel and empty, set over gunmetal-gray cabinets. No beakers or burners adorned the surface to make drugs. Nor did she see signs of winemaking equipment.

Pushing the door wider, she noted the counter extended the length of the wall in what turned out to be a huge room. Farther in, the metal surface held things—machines with blinking lights, glass vials snug in plastic stands, microscopes. At the far end, there was a fridge, a tall metal thing of industrial size that made her wonder what it held inside. Bodies perhaps? More and more intriguing.

Her gaze kept tracking the large room, unable to take it all in with a single glance. A sharp breath sucked in when she noted a bed in the middle of the room. The kind of bed usually seen only in hospitals, with metal rails and wheels.

It was occupied.

The back portion of it was raised, placing the guy on it in a sitting position. His eyes were closed.

A sheet drawn to mid-chest hid most of him from sight, except for his left arm. That arm lay strapped to a metal ledge projecting from the railing of the bed. They had it exposed because of

the

IV

.

The tube trailing from his arm was filled with some dark fluid. The line of plastic traveled to a bag that grew plumper as she watched. It filled with his blood.

Sue-Ellen took a step closer, noting his fine features. A boy, not much older than she. He wore a hospital gown, the kind that tied in the back, except his appeared loose as it listed off a shoulder.

Closer. She couldn’t help but be drawn to this boy hidden under her uncle’s house.

Who was he? Not a cousin for sure, she knew all of them by face and name. Sue-Ellen didn’t see any family resemblance in the boy

at

all

.

Good thing because Ma said it’s a sin to love one’s cousin. It was why they didn’t talk to cousins Patty and Thelma anymore.

This guy had features that looked as if they were chiseled from stone. Greek stone, given his square jaw and straight nose. His short hair was a dark blond at the roots and lightened at the tips. She wondered if it would shimmer in the sun if allowed to grow long. One thing for sure, he was incredibly handsome.

Who are you? she whispered.

Oddest thing, she could have sworn she heard a

whisper

. "

Mine

."

Chapter

Two

Who am I? Sometimes, he didn’t remember. Didn’t know.

Didn’t

care

.

In the sea of nothingness in which he floated, he heard a voice. A feminine voice. The notes of it soft and lilting. An angel’s voice surely.

Had he finally died and gone to heaven?

That would irritate the scientists playing with him.